


Italian in the War

by SteelLily



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:31:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4568049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelLily/pseuds/SteelLily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a little short piece about what life for an Italian in the US during the war might've been like for Angie. This was a prompt from ages ago over on Tumblr that I never posted over here.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I claim to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Italian in the War

“I got it, Peg!” Angie shouted as she bolted toward the incessant knocking at the front door, “Keep your pants on, I’m comin’.”

Angie opened the door and the smile she had worn quickly faded. Two men in military uniforms stood in front of her. “We’re here for Agent Carter,” the taller one stated coolly.

Angie frowned and gulped, “She ain’t in,” Angie’s instinct kicked in and she grimaced at the lie just as Peggy appeared behind her.

“Gentlemen, please give me a moment,” Peggy smiled at them and closed the door, pulling Angie with her.

“Sorry, Peg. Force of habit, won’t happen again,” Angie muttered quickly and hurried back into the kitchen. 

Peggy squinted in the direction Angie hurried away toward before slipping on her shoes and joining the men outside. Angie leaned back against the counter in the kitchen and closed her eyes. She took slow deep breaths and reminded herself that the war was over. Pushing away from the counter, she took to the pantry and retrieved a container of flour. She sat the glass container on the counter and went back to the refrigerator to take out an egg and the milk. 

Angie shook her head recalling Mr. Fancy’s insistence that eggs needed to be refrigerated. “That’ll never catch on,” she maintained. As she worked the dough, her shoulders slowly started to relax. By the time she had cut the pasta into strips and sprinkled flour over it to keep it from sticking, she was humming. She barely noticed when Peggy returned home, caught up in her dinner making. “Angie?” Peggy called from the living room.

“Kitchen, English,” Angie replied, stirring a pan of chunky red sauce, “Ya gotta give this a taste, I may’ve out done myself this time.”

Peggy shrugged her jacket off and hung it over a chair before tasting the sauce on the proffered wooden spoon. “Mmm,” Peggy smiled.

Angie took the noise as confirmation of her assertions and picked up pieces of pasta to drop into the boiling water. Peggy watched Angie glide back and forth between the strips of dough, pot of water and the saucepan. “Angie, darling, I wanted to ask you something.”

Angie wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, leaving a trail of flour in her wake, “What’s that?” she quickly returned to her dance of pasta to pot to sauce.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t seem too terribly fond of government agents,” she tiptoed.

There was a nearly imperceptible jerk in Angie’s shoulders then, “I’m fine with you, Peg.”

“Yes, darling, but earlier you told those men I wasn’t home and before that when you covered for me at the Griffith, you didn’t even question,” Peggy kept her tone calm and affectionate.

Angie bit her lip and shrugged, “That’s what pals do for each other, right?”

“I won’t press. If you ever want to talk though, I’m glad to listen. I heard stories about how some people were treated during the war,” Peggy reached up to one of the upper cabinets to pull down plates for the pasta.

Angie poured the steaming water into the sink and transferred the pasta to the sauce. Peggy sat the plates down on the table while Angie stirred the contents of the pan. “Things weren’t great for a lot of people during the war, Pegs. I’m lucky, ya know. I don’t really look too Italian and New York wasn’t as bad as some places…the stories you’d hear…and it was way worse for the Japanese after the whole Pearl Harbor thing. Couldn’t nobody tell a German from a hole in the wall ‘less their last name screamed it or somethin’. It ain’t nothin’ like you had to see bein’…in it…and everything. I can’t imagine. Well, I got a good imagination and I can imagine some things but I’m pretty sure it was worse than what I could cook up.”

Peggy quietly watched Angie as she rambled over the saucepan. When she turned and spooned their dinner onto the plates Peggy had laid on the table, she gave her a weak smile and continued, “The first time they came lookin’, it was to get us to sign some papers. America wasn’t even in the war yet but there the feds were, standin’ on our doorstep tellin’ Ma and Pop they had to write all our names down on some paper. Pop cussed a blue streak at the men and Ma pushed us all into the kitchen with Nanna and Papa.”

Angie twirled the pasta around her fork and took a bite. Peggy followed suit, content to let Angie lead the conversation however she was comfortable. They ate quietly. When Angie finished, she picked up her plate and dropped it in the sink. Peggy got up a moment later and filled the sink with water to wash the dishes. Angie sat back down at the table and sighed deeply. When Peggy turned off the water and started scrubbing, Angie continued, “By the time we joined the war, I’d heard just about any and every name you can call a person just to hurt ‘em.”

Peggy dropped her head down and rubbed fiercely at an imagined spot on a plate. Angie took a drink from her glass of wine and cleared her throat, “The next time the feds came lookin’, they wanted to talk to Papa, my grandpa. They weren’t as nice this time. They called him an ‘alien enemy.’ Oh he was lettin’ ‘em have it. Didn’t help none that it was in Italian. They hauled him off right on the spot, in bracelets and everything. Papa got lucky, they let him come home a few days later. He ranted for days about how,” Angie started talking in a thick Italian accent and gestured wildly with her hands, “‘America is the land of opportunity, il mio culo grasso. I came here to give you all a better life, not be harassed for what country we’re from. How are we supposed to have control over what a country—we don’t even live in anymore—does, eh? Oh I’m sorry, Mussolini, the Americans are uncomfortable with your decisions, please stop. Idioti cazzo.’ Papa cussed a lot in Italian so I’ll spare ya the translations,” Angie shrugged the last.

Peggy smiled quietly to herself; she spoke fairly fluent Italian but never quite had the heart to tell Angie. She recognized the colourful language easily; war makes people care a little less about propriety in language particularly around mixed company. They had yet to discuss the fact that she spent time during the war in Italy, but that could wait for another day. Angie folded her arms across the table and leaned forward. Peggy wiped her hands on a towel. Angie took her glass, got up from the table and padded out of the room toward the den. Peggy followed suit, taking her own cup as well. Angie lowered herself in front of the fireplace, sitting cross legged facing the flames. Peggy debated whether to join her or take a seat on the couch and wait. Before she could make up her mind, Angie patted the ground next to her on the edge of the rug. Peggy moved to sit next to Angie. When she draped her arm over Angie’s shoulder, Angie rested her head against Peggy’s side.

“We lived in a real Italian area, ya know? Not just us Martinellis—and believe me there’s a load of us—but all sorts. Cops’d come through all the time, a lot of guys got nailed for nothin’ ‘cept walkin’ down the street. One of the families in my neighborhood told us about some cousins they had livin’ in another state, had a cross burned in their yard. I guess the KKK don’t like nobody. Course, don’t nobody like them either,” Angie shrugged into Peggy’s shoulder.

Peggy rubbed soothing circles on Angie’s knee and tucked her in closer. Angie took another deep breath, “Anyway, I told you about my cousin who got hit by a bus. He did rob a bank. I didn’t lie about that, he did get hit by a car. The person that did it though shouted some really nasty stuff at him and gunned it right into him. Cops didn’t do nothin’. The ones that told us about it, muttered to each other as they was walking away about ‘one less Eye-Tie to worry about.’ Even after Italy switched sides in the war, we still got visits from the feds askin’ about our affiliations. We couldn’t be out after dark and after the first few kids got popped by coppers, we learned real quick to stay in. Ya heard stories about the feds takin’ away people to them camps they set up out west,” Angie shuddered.

The muscles in Peggy’s jaw worked as she gritted her teeth. She could not hide the scowl on her face though she tried desperately to keep the tension from where she touched Angie. All she could keep seeing was Steve’s face had he known what his own country was doing to its citizens. She imagined him tearing into the internment camps with the same abandon as he did the HYDRA bases and lambasting the politicians that created them. The thought made Peggy smile sadly and she gripped Angie tighter. Angie swiped her fist across her cheeks. “At one point, Pop talked to us about changin’ our name. Papa nearly snapped his cap. Loads of folks did change their names though. The lengths people’ll go to just to blend in…why do people gotta be so hateful?” Angie looked at Peggy at this and Peggy felt her heart shatter in her chest.

“I don’t know, my darling,” was all Peggy could manage through the growing urge to punch things to take away the hurt that was so plain on Angie’s face.

“I know it ain’t nothin’ like what a lot of people had to go through, still do have to go through, but anyway, that’s why I don’t trust feds and cops. I’m sorry I lied to your friends. It’s just…” Angie sighed and pulled away from Peggy.

Peggy turned away from the fire to face Angie. Angie stared intently at the flames. “You’re like family, English, and family protects each other,” Angie pulled her knees into her chest and rested her chin on them, “I don’t wanna see somebody else I care about get hurt. I know it’s silly. I know they aren’t here to take you away…‘cept for that one time they were there to try and take you away.”

Peggy huffed a laugh to which Angie turned her head on her knees and looked up at her. Peggy smiled gently and placed a kiss at the corner of her eye. “Thank you for protecting me, my darling.”


End file.
